Page 69 of Breaking the Rules

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My chest is warm.

My stomach is fluttering.

My limbs are airy.

Hell, my fingers are already sliding over the keyboard, tapping out detailed directions to my location.

I want him here.

I hate that I want him here.

But I really fucking want him here.

Hunter: You're supposed to volunteer what you're doing.

Emma: Your subtlety is lacking.

Hunter: Not my strong suit.

Emma: Clearly.

Hunter: Where are you?

Emma: None of your business.

My fingers itch to tell him. All of me itches to tell him. To have his tall, strong, safe body nearby.

It's only getting worse the more we text.

I like him more than I did yesterday.

And, yesterday, I liked him more than I did the day before.

I just…

I really like him.

Hunter: All right.

Emma: All right?

It can't be all right. I need him engaging me. I need him capturing my attention.

Hunter: Then I won't tell you about my date.

My stomach twists.

He…

I…

No.

He's not going on a date.

He can't go on a date.

Not when we're…

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